Sherlock: Superior Intellect
by Cyclops Eye
Summary: Based on the hit BBC series. Sherlock Holmes is forced to confront his greatest fears when his acquaintances are targeted by a lethal assassin. Armed with only his intellect, Sherlock must track down this malevolent force before its too late. But will the reappearance of Irene Adler place Holmes in a befuddling predicament?


Sherlock: A lesson in the SupernaturalChapter One

It was only begrudgingly that the reclusive Sherlock Holmes departed the residence of 221B to venture to the corner shop. If Watson was not enduring yet another date, he would not have to even have left the flat. As he passed every London commuter, he participated in a game that he had enjoyed when he was just a primitive child. The objective was to decipher someone's occupation and habits from a mere glance at them. Occasionally, Mycroft Holmes would stoop so low as to attempt to outsmart his younger sibling. Even back then the brother's rivalry was shifting into place.

A stern man briskly passed by Sherlock. The soles on his shoes were remarkably smooth despite the fact that they were a 90s model. This indicated that he worked in an inside space that included limited movement. Therefore, his shoes would be well preserved. A business card protruded out of his pocket but failed to deliver the company name. The logo, a collection of fifty-dollar notes indicated that he worked for an American firm – most probably a bank. Contrasting rough hands indicated he must take part in a sport involving the use of hands as a fundamental aspect. His lean figure made Basketball the most probable option.

Following the Basketball Banker was a twenty-year-old woman who wore bullion jewellery and jubilant hair dye. Her orange skin made Holmes' first presumption that she was from an exotic country. On the other hand, she slopped around and chewed gum in an English fashion. The jewellery was clearly pseudo because it did not have the authentic mark on the side that its designer usually incorporated into its design. The way she treated her jewellery made Sherlock understand that she was unaware of its origin. The most frequent situation in this case was that a lover had bestowed her with it. From the liquid stains in her top, Sherlock understood that she had been weeping after losing that lover. Stuffed into her pockets were three newspapers cut outs of job vacancies implying that she was unemployed.

After examining a further two men (A retired Golfer and a floral loving Wrestler) and a squat woman (A Puppeteer with a passion for food), Sherlock eventually arrived at his destination in a time that coincided with Molly Hooper's.

"Ladies first," Sherlock indicated discreetly for her to enter before him.

Holly blushed before following Sherlock's direct demand.

"What a…are you d…doing here?" stammered Molly childishly.

"Shopping," Sherlock replied bluntly. "What else does someone do in a shop?"

"Well, you know…" Molly began precariously.

"What you are about to declare is that I'm a hermit!" deduced Sherlock rapidly. "Am I correct?"

This silenced the inquisitive Molly Hooper. For a few moments, she just trailed behind him as he scoured for a pint of milk. Sometimes, she pondered over what aspects of Sherlock's personality she admired. Occasionally, like that fateful Christmas Day, her hatred for him bubbled like an active volcano but, more frequently, she contemplated how much she passionately cared for the abnormal consulting detective.

"Haven't you got better things to day than stare at me?" sneered Sherlock as he examined the dairy section. "It really is quite infuriating! By the way, how is your Mother?"

Molly was at first bewildered by his concern but then realised his condescending tone meant she hadn't informed him of her Mother's illness. It was just another chance for him to show off.

"So," sighed Molly melodramatically. "How did you work this one out?"

"You don't know?" sniggered Sherlock smugly, much to Holly's annoyance. "Well, for a start, your eyes are sullen and scarlet, implying that you have been weeping. Clenched in your hand is a Royal Charity Wristband, meaning you went to one of their sponsors. Their only sponsor within a thirty-mile radius is the NHS London infirmary. You have a specific type of cigarette ash in your hair that can only be found in a Pipe. It is stereotypical that only the older generation smoke from a pipe that means that it must have been an elderly person you visited in the hospital. From fore knowledge, I know that you're Father is currently…erm… occupied being dead due to the fact I was involved in his murder case – his Housekeeper did it, I recall. Therefore it must be your Mother! Pleased with my observation?"

"Pleased?" whimpered Molly, a tear trickling down her face. "My Mum is dead; try deducing that!"

With that, she stormed out of the shop, screeching with internal agony. Befuddled, Sherlock took a glance around the clustered shop – in which everyone was looking at him, repulsed – before addressing his crowd.

"What? Did I say anything wrong?"


End file.
